Riddler's Filing Cabinet
by morgana006
Summary: Batman has to borrow one of the files from the Riddler's detective practice, when he notices something suspicious.


The Riddle File

_Batman fanfic, sort of based in current continuity,__ but not particularly concerned on accuracy in that respect. Not slash, despite what the rest of my fanfics seem to be._

_Characters: Batman, Riddler, guest starring Robin__ (they don't belong to me, they belong to dc, and that rhyme was totally unintentional, honest)._

_Enjoy!_

Bruce Wayne leaned a little closer to the woman's ear. One hand was resting on her shoulder, the other was resting on her knee. She giggled, taking off the latter hand.

"Now, now, mister Wayne, I've had enough trouble with men right now, without you overstepping your bounds."

Her voice was light and playful, but what she said was true enough. Bruce smiled inwardly.

Just a little more.

"Oh, it can't have been all that bad," he said.

She giggled again. "Let's just say my last boyfriend was doing some under the table business, you know."

"How shocking! Did you go to the police?"

"In this town? You kidding? Everybody's doing some double dealing. No, I said to him, see, I said – Sylvie, if you keep on dealing with those masked freaks, I'll leave you. I will. But he didn't care about me enough."

"He doesn't know what he's missing."

The woman pushed Bruce slighty. "Oh you charmer, you."

"But how did you find out he'd been dealing with _those_ guys, Maria?"

Her smile fell a bit. "I thought he was cheating on me so I hired a private eye. That Riddler character cleared it all up for me even though he used to be one of them."

Bingo. That night, Batman would pay a visit to the Riddler, but for now, he'd keep up the act until Bruce gets 'called away'.

Maria was annoying, but she genuinely was a nice person, so it wasn't unbearable. Still, now that Bruce got his information, he no longer needed her. Although, he might just actually call her back.

--

"Nigma."

Batman's voice was harsh and unexpected. Riddler was a little surprised, but he was too used to Batman's unexpected appearances to show it.

"Batman, here for a cup of tea, I suppose?"

Batman, not unsurprisingly, ignored that remark. "Maria Lister. She hired you to find out if her boyfriend was cheating on her. You found out he was doing something else."

Riddler turned away from his computer and stood up, carefully watching the Bat's face.

"Maria Lister, Maria Lister… ah yes. I remember. That was weeks ago. Her boyfriend Sylvester Hamilton was dealing chemicals from his company to various costumed Gothamites."

Batman stepped closer.

"I need more details."

Riddler tapped his chin, relishing the chance to make Batman wait.

"Nigma."

"Yes, yes, but unfortunately, as I said, it was weeks ago. I don't remember the details. I do write files though, you could look through those."

"Can't you find it for me?"

Riddler grinned and walked across his office to his filing cabinet. He carefully locked the bottom drawer.

"You can look through any time, if you want."

Nigma yawned and looked over his shoulder at Batman, a smile on his face.

"You'll probably need my help a lot, and I don't have time to match wits with you. I have cases."

Batman walked over to the filing cabinet, and looked through the middle drawer.

"You never seemed to mind spending time matching wits with me before, Nigma."

Eddie Nigma walked back to his computer, grinning widely.

"A lot of mistaken endeavors," he said, "I've gone straight now, on the side of the law, fighting the good fight, etcetera, etcetera."

"For a profit, of course."

Riddler sniffed disdainfully. "Now, now, don't be so snippy. It's true, but I'm still on the right side of the law."

Batman snorted as he pulled out Maria Lister's file from the cabinet.

"You don't think I've gone straight?"

Batman gave him a quick side-glance. "I want to think you've gone straight, but allow me to feel _skeptical_."

"If you say so," said Riddler, putting a little bit of hurt and a little bit of dismissal in his voice.

"One last thing."

"Oh goody."

"Why did you lock the bottom drawer?"

"Hmm?"

"You locked the bottom drawer of your cabinet. Why?"

The Riddler stiffened. "It's just personal stuff, that's all."

Batman said nothing, but his look said it all.

"Honest," Eddie said.

But Batman had gone. And Eddie was left at his desk, cursing himself for his foolishness.

--

Tim Drake, Robin, sat in the Batcave by Bruce, eating a sandwich.

"Go alone?" he asked suspiciously, "Why?"

Batman's voice was gruff as he said, "I just need to check something out for five minutes. Tail Sylvester, and I should be back before anything happens. If not, send word."

"Right, okay, whatever," said Tim, "What do you need to 'check out'?"

"There's something the Riddler doesn't want me to see. And I intend to find out."

"Wait, what? Back up, start from the beginning."

Batman held up Maria Lister's file. "I got this from the Riddler today, a couple of hours ago. He told me I could look through his files, but locked one of them."

"Why?"

"That's what I intend to find out."

"What did he say it was?"

"He said it was 'personal stuff'."

Robin raised an eyebrow and took a bite from his sandwich as Batman walked over to the Batmobile.

"What if it is just 'personal stuff', Batman? What if it's just an old copy of _Clue_ or something?"

"Get in the car."

"Fine, fine," said Tim, finishing his sandwich, "I get it. Can't you do this later though? No, I didn't think so."

Tim pulled on his mask and got into the Batmobile. Batman said nothing, but he was frowning. There was definitely something suspicious about Eddie Nigma's performance that night, and Bruce fully intended to find out what it was as soon as possible.

Just in case.

--

Batman climbed onto the window sill, carefully opening the window. The office was dark, but that was no reason not to be careful. He crept silently to the filing cabinet. Carefully, ever so carefully, he picked the lock on the bottom drawer. Click. It was open.

The lights turned on.

The Riddler stood there, one hand on the light switch, facing Batman, kneeling by his files.

"I knew you'd be back," he said, "I made a mistake. I shouldn't have called attention to it."

There was almost a note of pleading in his voice. Batman said nothing.

"Is it too much to ask for you to leave without opening the drawer?"

The pleading in Nigma's voice was unmistakable now. But they both knew how it was going to go.

Batman opened the drawer.

"Eddie, what…?"

There were no files in the drawer. But it was stuffed with paper. All sorts of paper. There were snippets of printer paper, paper napkins, and one was the end of a shopping list. There was expensive paper, cheap paper, paper that came from the garbage, paper taken off the desks of hotels. There was even a piece of paper taken from one of those ads that had phone numbers that people stuck on lampposts.

And every single paper had a riddle written on it in Nigma's handwriting.

"You weren't – you weren't supposed to see them."

Batman closed the drawer and stood up.

"Explain."

At first the Riddler said nothing. When he did speak, he tried to get his haughtiness back.

"I don't need to explain anything to you."

It didn't work.

"Eddie, you're sick. Please, just explain. I want to know if I can trust you outside of Arkham.

"I – I – I need them."

Batman watched as Nigma's legs gave way.

"I tried, you know, going straight before," he said. "But I couldn't. I liked the riddles, and I liked having somebody answer them. I tried to stop them altogether, but I'd think – 'Just one- rob a bank or something, and he'll answer one and then I can go back to going straight.' But one always led to two. Or Arkham. And it never stopped."

"So this time, this time I tried it. Going straight, with the riddles. Being a private detective would keep me loaded with mysteries, I thought. But every once in a while, I'd think of a new riddle. So, so to stop myself from going back into old habits…"

He stopped abruptly. But by this time Batman had the gist.

"So you wrote them down. And put them into this drawer."

Neither of them said anything for a while. The silence stretched until Batman slipped away, out the window, to finish his night's work.

And the Riddler sat there, on the floor of his office, staring at the drawer.

Finally, he grabbed a paper from his desk.

He took the nearest pen and wrote one word.

Then he put it into the drawer, and locked it again.

He left, turning off the lights to his office.

Later, when Batman reviewed the security tapes, just in case, he thought he glimpsed a trace of a grin on Eddie's face.

And he felt vaguely uncomfortable.


End file.
